


When the Full Moon Rises

by BrandonRose1992



Series: When the Full Moon Rises [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sad Derek, Sad Stiles, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:20:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrandonRose1992/pseuds/BrandonRose1992
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles convinces Scott to go look for a dead body in the preserve they are attacked by a monster. Scott dies, but Stiles doesn't. Instead, he's turned into a werewolf. With the help of the mysterious Derek Hale, Stiles hunts down the Alpha Werewolf who bit him and killed Scott to exact revenge. </p>
<p>This is my version of the events of season one if Stiles were bitten, and Scott died. This is also a character study on Stiles, and possibly Derek if I decide to do multiple points of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Full Moon Rises

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all. This is my first fan fiction ever, even though I've been reading it for quite a while now. Seeing as how I'd like to someday be a published author amongst other things, I figured this would be good practice. I hope it's not too awful. Oh, and this work is not beta'd This work was inspired by 'Into the Woods' by phoenixzeal.

Stiles was heading into the kitchen for a snack before going to bed early, tomorrow was the first day of school after all. He paused just outside of the threshold when he heard his father’s phone go off. He’d developed the habit of listening in on his father’s phone calls a few years ago, just after his mom died. He couldn’t help it, he just had to know his dad was safe.

“This is Stilinski,” his dad said as he answered the phone while Stiles listened in quietly just beyond his father’s line of site. “What do you mean they found a body in the preserve?” Stiles felt his muscles tense up and he became firmly planted in place as he listened even more intently. “They found half a body.” It wasn’t a question; his dad understood what was going on now. Never let it be said that Stilinskis were slow on the uptake. “Jesus Christ. Alright, I’ll be there.”

_Alright, act natural_ , Stiles thought as he walked into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. “Hey Dad, you heading out?” Stiles asked as he ducked his head into the fridge and pretended to rummage around for something to eat.

“Stiles, I know you were listening to the phone call,” his dad stated flatly. Stiles pulled his head out of the fridge and looked to see his dad giving him one of those looks that he’s had to develop over the years to use with Stiles specifically. It was something between exasperation and slight disappointment. Stiles didn’t like that look. He ducked his head in shame and refused to meet his father’s stern gaze again. He doesn’t mean to cause trouble for his dad. In fact, he tries very hard to do the exact opposite most of the time. It’s just that sometimes the price of knowing his father is safe is doing something that causes his dad trouble. That will always be worth a small hint of disappointment on his dad’s face.

“Stiles, I don’t think I have to tell you just how much trouble you’ll be in if you leave the house,” his dad said with a smirk. It wasn’t even a question so Stiles just nodded.

“Okay, I’m headed out. See you tomorrow kiddo and in case I’m not back by morning, have a good first day back to school.” His dad walked by and patted Stiles on the head as he headed for the door.

“Dad,” Stiles said as his dad opened the door. He paused and turned back to look at Stiles. “Be careful.”

“Always am,” he said with a small smile as he walked out the door and closed it behind him. Objectively Stiles knows this is true, his dad is always careful, it doesn’t make Stiles worry any less. Stiles stood in the same spot starring at the front door from his place in the kitchen for a few minutes before the information actually sank in. _There’s a body in the woods. There’s a body in the woods and they only have half of it…HOLY CRAP! This is awesome! Oh my god, I gotta tell Scott. We have to go look for it._ Stiles pulled out his phone and dialed Scott’s number. He didn’t pick up. Stiles tried again. Scott still didn’t pick up. This went on for ten minutes until Stiles decided, screw it, and ran upstairs to his room to grab his car keys and a flashlight and headed over to Scott’s house.

***

Stiles pulled up to Scott’s, quietly got out of his Jeep, and made his way up to the house. Instead of going through the front door using the house key he had made, he decided to teach Scott a little lesson about not picking up his phone. Stiles started making some loud noises and climbed up onto the roof above the porch and waited for Scott. A few minutes later Stiles could hear Scott come out the front door and slowly make his way over. Stiles waited for the right moment and draped his torso over the ledge and shouted in Scott’s face. Of course for Stiles’ efforts he almost received a baseball bat to the face.

“Stiles! What the hell are you doing here?” Scott said exasperated.

“You weren’t answering your phone!” Scott sort of just looked at Stiles while he waited for him to continue. Stiles wasn’t deterred. “Okay, you’re not going to believe this, but I overheard my dad talking over the phone and they found a body up in the preserve. But here’s the best part, they only found half the body.”

“What happened to the other half?” Scott asked looking a little green.

“They don’t know! God, this is like the most exciting thing to happen to this town since forever!” Stiles couldn’t help it, he had a morbid sense of curiosity and he was easily excitable.

“That’s great Stiles, well not for the dead girl, but why are you telling me?” Scott asked looking apprehensive. He knew Stiles too well.

“Because we’re going to look for the other half!” Stiles explained excitedly as he dropped down from the roof with a little more grace then he’s usually capable of. Scott groaned like Stiles' words caused him pain.

“Stiles,” Scott whined, “I wanted to get a good nights sleep before tryouts tomorrow. I’m going to be on first line this year.” Scott seemed so sure that this was a thing that was going to happen. He even had that adorable little puppy pout that always made Stiles feel like he should pat his best friend on the head and give him a cookie. It was admirable really, that he seemed so sure. Stiles wished he was that optimistic.

“That’s great Scott, it’s a wonderful thing to have dreams, really. But let’s try making our goals a little more realistic.” Stiles grinned at the scowl his best friend sent him. Stiles is a sarcastic asshole, Scott knows this. He also knows Stiles isn’t being serious; not completely anyway. “Dude, just hear me out for a second. We find the body and we become local heroes.” Scott lifted an eyebrow at him and Stiles huffs exasperatedly. “Come on dude, think about it. We find the body and word gets out that were the ones who found it. People will talk about us and we might finally get some popularity and girls will notice us.” That piqued Scott’s interest. It really wasn’t hard to get Scott to do what Stiles wanted. Stiles should probably feel bad about that. Stiles waited while Scott thought about it with a conflicted look on his face. Stiles saw the moment that he relented and grinned.

“Alright, I’ll help you find the body. But I have a terrible feeling about this.” Stiles would come to wish that he had listened to Scott’s feelings.

***

Stiles parked just outside the preserve’s limits and he and Scott jumped out of the jeep. Stiles turned on the flashlight as they trekked into the woods, newly fallen autumn leaves crunching under their feet as they climb up steep slopes and slide down several hills in the process. Stiles was so excited that he didn’t notice Scott’s heavy breathing at first.

“Shouldn’t the person with severe asthma be the one holding the flashlight?” Scott asked through his panting as he pulled out his inhaler. Stiles immediately felt guilty and stopped a few paces ahead of his friend and smiled sheepishly as Scott took a few puffs from his inhaler.

“Stiles, do you even know what half of the body we’re looking for?” In truth Stiles didn’t so he said as much.

“And what if whoever killed her is still out there?” Scott asked.

“Also something I didn’t think about.” Stiles hated it when Scott pointed out the giant holes in his plans.

“And what happens when your dad catches us?” Stiles didn’t really didn’t want to think about that one.

“We’ll worry about that if he catches us.” Once Scott caught his breath they continued to walk further into the preserve. When they walk up over another embankment Stiles sees the bright glow of lights in the near distance that no doubt belong to the search party. Stiles drops to the ground pulling Scott with him and hides the glow of his flashlight. It’s at this point Stiles decides that maybe it would be a good idea to just go home.

“Okay, Scott you win. We’ll leave.” Stiles heard Scott mutter a ‘thank god’ under his breath as they started walking away from the lights, and the people, and the barking police dogs. Instead of heading straight back the way they came, Stiles decides to take a few detours to continue looking for the body, all the while making sure to keep a safe distance between themselves and the search party. When Stiles turns his back and consequentially changes the direction of the now dim flash light Scott trips over a tree root and tumbles down the hill they were standing on top of.

“Scott!” Stiles yelped as he sprinted down the hill after his friend. By the time he reached the bottom Scott was already standing back up and pulling out his inhaler.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Scott when he reached him. Scott nodded and shook up his inhaler getting ready to take another puff when out of nowhere a herd of deer decide it would be fun to trample Stiles and Scott as they take a midnight run through the woods. One of them knocks Stiles out of the way and he gets the air knocked out of his lungs when he hits the ground. Scott just ducks down and hopes for the best. When the herd passes them, the both of them slowly get to their feet in case there are any stragglers that decide that they too would like a turn at stomping them into the ground.

“Are you okay?” asks Scott as he comes over to where Stiles is trying to get the air back into his lungs.

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, and then pauses as a worrying thought hits him. “Something must have spooked them.” Scott considers Stiles words for a second.

“It’s probably just the search party.” It makes sense, but Stiles still feels uneasy.

“Oh man,” Scott whines, “I dropped my inhaler. Stiles you have to help me find it.” Considering that this situation is entirely Stiles’ fault he has no objections to helping Scott look for his inhaler. Stiles points his flash light to the ground as Scott switches on his phone and they both start rummaging through the dead leaves. They do this for all of thirty seconds before the light of Stiles flashlight falls on the still and naked form of a young woman who gazes back at Stiles with dead eyes and a look of fear frozen on her face. Stiles screams and falls on his ass as he kicks himself backwards to get away from the body. He won’t even try to pretend it was a manly scream, but he thinks he gets a free pass just this once because he found the body and it’s cut in half and it’s the most disturbing thing he’s ever seen and he’s kind of freaking out now but he feels like he’s allowed to and now he’s panicking and rambling in his head and just STOP! Stiles takes a few deep breaths to try and quell the growing panic and stop his racing thoughts.

“Oh my god!” Scott yelps when he sees the body. “We found her, Stiles we have to go get your dad. I don’t care if we get in trouble we have to tell him.” Stiles just nods dumbly because he can’t take his eyes away from the girl’s. God, the sight is nauseating and the smell isn’t much better, but staring into this girl’s lifeless eyes, he feels sick for an entirely different reason. He can’t believe he thought this was a good idea. He can’t believe he thought this would be fun. This was a person. This was a person who lived, laughed, and loved and probably has family who is missing her and is worried sick, but she’ll never come home. She’ll never hold her loved ones again and say ‘I love you.’ Stiles can’t believe he treated her violent death as something to give him entertainment. He’s never been more disgusted with himself.

As Stiles continues to stare he notices just how quiet Scott has gotten. He finally pulls his gaze away from the young woman and stares at his best friend whose standing stock still and looking out into the shadows of the forest. Stiles follows his line of sight until his eyes land on a black mass about forty yards away from them. They both just stare for a second until the thing moves and then there is a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at them and Stiles’ pulse skyrockets as adrenaline floods his system thanks to an almost forgotten primal instinct his distant ancestors relied upon for their survival in the face of vicious predators. Stiles doesn’t know what the hell that thing is but he knows how his body wants to respond. It wants him to run. What little there is left of his rational thoughts also knows that’s the worst thing he can possibly do.

“Scott,” Stiles whispers as the body of the creature seems to tense up as if it’s waiting to pounce, waiting for the right moment to pursue its prey. “Whatever you do, don’t run. Back away slowly.” They both take a few small and excruciatingly slow steps backwards, eyes never leaving whatever the hell that thing is. It almost seems like they’ll be okay until they hear a low, menacing growl and Scott bolts.

“Wait, Scott, No!” Stiles screams, but it’s too late because Scott is running faster than Stiles has ever seen him but it’s still not enough. Within the span of a few seconds the beast has Scott on the ground and Scott is shouting in pain and terror as the beast uses teeth and claws to rend into Scott’s flesh. Stiles doesn’t make a conscious decision, he just reacts. He picks up a large stick lying nearby on the ground and charges the beast. He swings the stick and hits the creature in the head and the stick splinters in half leaving him with a very large makeshift stake. Then in an instant the creature is on him and it’s sinking it’s fangs into his side and knocks him to the ground where it attempts to tear into him. Before the creature can do any real damage to him, he tightens his grip on the makeshift stake and plunges it deep into the soft underbelly of the beast. The creature lets out an earsplitting howl and it’s gone in an instant, leaving him panting on the ground. Stiles hears his best friend whimpering and crying out in pain and Stiles quickly makes his way over to his best friend.

“Scott?” Stiles chokes out. His best friend is shaking and bleeding badly as he locks eyes with Stiles. He’s breathing heavily and coughing up blood and he’s trying to say something. Stiles feels tears streaming down his face as he gently lifts Scott’s head up and places it in his lap and shushes him. “Shhh, don’t talk Scott. I’ll get you some help, buddy. It’s going to be okay.” At this point, Stiles is trying to reassure Scott as much as himself. Stiles pulls out his phone and calls his dad.

“Stiles?” His dad says.

“Dad, I need help. Please you have to help,” Stiles pleads. His dad can fix anything.

“Stiles, calm down and tell me what’s wrong.” His dad commands in a calm, stern voice.

“Dad, I’m out here in the preserve and something attacked us and Scott’s hurt and he’s bleeding and please dad I’m scared.”

“…oh god,” his dad says, briefly losing his composure. Stiles hears his dad barking orders to the rest of the search party down the line. “Stiles, I’m coming to you. Stay where you are. Stay with me on the phone until we find you.” Stiles takes in a deep breath, but he chokes on the air. He can feel the panic welling up and he really hopes his dad gets here soon. He thinks he can already hear shouting in the distance.

“Stiles?” Stiles looks down to Scott again and tears well up anew in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry Scott. This is all my fault…” Stiles can’t believe he was so stupid. He should have listened to his dad. He should have listened to Scott. They should never have come out here.

“Stiles?” Scott rasps out again, causing him to cough up a little blood.

“Please don’t talk Scott,” Stiles begs his friend, but Scott just shakes his head and continues.

“No, Stiles listen to me.” Scott begs, so Stiles does. “This isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself.” For a second, Stiles didn’t understand why Scott was trying to reassure him, now of all times. But then it sinks in and the thought strikes Stiles with a bone chilling terror that settles into his core.

“No! Scott don’t say that! You’re not going to die!” Stiles tries to be firm and reassuring but he’s pretty sure it just sounds like he’s begging.

“Dammit Stiles, listen to me ‘cause I need to say this.” Stiles shuts up and listens to Scott through his tears. “This isn’t your fault and I need you to believe that.” He pauses for a second to gather his thoughts. “I need you to promise me you’ll look after my mom, make sure she’s not too lonely. And I want you to tell her that I love her and that I’m sorry.” Stiles nods because he can do that, no matter how much he wants to yell at Scott and tell him to live so he can say it all himself. “And I need you to promise that you’ll move on and make new friends.” At this Stiles shakes his head because that doesn’t seem like something he can do. It’s always just been the two of them against the world.

“I can’t Scott. I can’t lose you.” Stiles is trying so hard to hold back the tears but they just keep flowing.

“I know,” Scott whispers as he takes hold of Stiles’ hand and gives it a weak squeeze, “I know, but there’s no stopping it now. Listen to me Stiles, you have to believe me. I don’t blame you. And I’m so lucky that I got to have you as a friend. But you’re more to than that to me Stiles. You’re my brother and I love you.”

“I love you too, Scott.” Stiles is openly sobbing now but he manages to rasp out those five simple yet utterly profound words through his tears. Scott flashes him a big grin but it’s pained and twisted and it only serves to make Stiles feel worse. He holds Stiles’ gaze for a few more moments but then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he starts convulsing violently before going completely still.

“SCOTT?! SCOOOT!!! NOOO!!! SOMEBODY HELP!!!” Stiles shouts at the top of his lungs as he shakes Scott to get him to try and wake up. He doesn’t know how long he’s like that, how long he sits there shouting at the top of his lungs. Then suddenly he’s surrounded by bright light and shouting voices, and then someone is prying him away from Scott and he doesn’t want to let go and then he’s panicking and he can’t breathe and then the world just seems to go dark.

***

Stiles wakes up a short time later and he’s in the back of an ambulance and they’re racing towards the hospital. His father’s there by his side and he looks like he’s aged about twenty years. The only thing Stiles feels besides the pain is the guilt that sits heavy in his chest, because he did that. That’s his fault; just like it’s his fault that Scott’s dead. _I killed my best friend._

“Dad,” whispers Stiles. His dad looks at him with an expression that can only be described as relief. More than anything in that moment, Stiles wished that he’d just obeyed his father for once. “I’m sorry dad. I’m so, so, sorry.” Now he’s tearing up again, he’s too tired to actually cry, but his dad is squeezing his hand and shushing him and telling him it’s all right, but it’s not. It’ll never be alright. “I should have listened to you. If I had listened to you, Scott would still be alive.” By the look on his father’s face, he agrees. But he doesn’t voice his opinion. Probably because he doesn’t want Stiles to feel worse than he already does. Stiles doesn’t actually think that’s possible at this point.

“Just hang in there until we get to the hospital, you’ll be alright.” His father says as he looks over Stiles body. This confuses Stiles because he’s not hurt, not really, but when he looks down at his body he sees where his naked torso is covered in blood. He notices a few bandages along his chest where he probably has some claw marks from where the beast knocked him over and there is a bandage on his side that covers the big bite, and he’s still bleeding from them a little, but not enough to cover his entire torso. Then he realizes most of the blood isn’t his. That revelation makes him physically ill and he throws up all over himself in the ambulance.“Stiles!” his dad shouts in alarm as the medic quickly does his best to wipe the vomit up with a clean towel.

“That’s not my blood…” Stiles say in a small voice. “It’s Scott’s.”

Soon he’s being unloaded and wheeled into the emergency room and it’s all kind of a hectic blur. He thought his heart had already been shattered into a million pieces tonight; that was until he saw Scott’s mom. Saw the look of utter devastation on her face as tears freely ran down her cheeks as she sobbed. Now the pieces of his shattered heart number in the billions. _I did that too,_ he thinks as she slips out of his line of sight as he’s wheeled away. The rest of that evening went by quickly. Once he was checked over by a doctor and they determined he didn’t have any severe or life threatening injuries someone properly dressed his wounds and left him to rest for a while. He was beginning to drift off when his father pulled back the privacy curtain and sat down in a chair beside the bed Stiles was laying on. Stiles noticed his dad had a notebook and a pen in his hands. He was going to take a statement.

“Son I hate to do this right now, but I need an official statement seeing as how you did happen upon the other half of the body,” his dad stated regretfully. Stiles just looked at him a moment and then nodded. “Okay, so what were you doing out in the preserve?” Stiles knows his dad is aware of why his son was out in the preserve, but Stiles is also aware that the questions are all a part of the procedure so he tries not to get agitated. Once they're through with the part his dad knows Stiles goes on to explain about how they wondered through the preserve, how they’d run into the search party and decided to head back, about how Scott went tumbling down a hill and then how they got stampeded by a herd of deer. He tells him about having to look for Scott’s inhaler and then seeing the body. “We were getting ready to come find you when we saw it,” Stiles says in a voice that is just above a whisper.

“What was it?” His dad asks softly. Stiles sees a flash of red eyes in his mind and shivers at the memory.

“I don’t know…” Stiles says quietly as a few tears slide down his face.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” his dad asks in his confusion.

“I mean I don’t know what the hell it was; I’ve never seen anything like it!” Stiles yells and then takes a moment to collect himself. “God dad, it was awful…It was huge, and it had these big, glowing red eyes. And at first it was just watching us, but I could see it was waiting for us to run. We were backing away slowly and it seemed like we were going to get away but then it growled and Scott…” He cut himself off with a rasping cough because the name tasted like ash on his tongue and bile rose to his throat. “He ran, and the thing pounced and it started tearing him apart. I can still hear him screaming,” Stiles whispers trying so hard to hold back the tears.

“And then what happened?” his dad asked softly.

“I picked up a big stick and hit the thing on the head. That’s when it turned on me and when it knocked me to the ground I stabbed it. I don’t know how much I hurt it, but it took off. Then Scott died in my arms and then you showed up.” Stiles was crying freely albeit quietly now. He just wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and let the blackness take him so he could be free of his grief, even if it’s just for a short time. “Can we go home now?” Stiles asked his dad quietly.

“Yeah, I just need to hand your statement over to one of the deputies and fill out some paperwork and then will go.” Within a relatively short time they were in his dad’s police cruiser and headed home. When they got there Stiles took a long hot shower and then settled in bed. He was out like a light almost as soon as his head hit the pillow; his last thought the same one he’d been repeating in his head since he woke up in the ambulance. _I killed my best friend._

***

Stiles awoke the next morning to his father gently shaking him. For a few brief moments, seeing his dad sitting at the edge of his bed, the world felt right. But then he remembered what had happened last night. He remembered how the earth shattered beneath his feet and changed his life forever. And he’s still repeating those five words in his head; _I killed my best friend_. He sees his dad watching him with a worried look and Stiles tries to put on a smile, but judging by the look on his dad’s face it doesn’t work.

“Hey kid, how you feeling?” His dad asks quietly. That’s actually a good question and it has a number of very colorful and vivid answers. He feels like something has clawed into his chest and ripped his heart out. He feels like the biggest piece of shit to ever walk the face of the earth. He feels such a deep-seated sadness that he thinks eventually the tears will fill an ocean. But the answer that sits on his tongue as his lower lip quivers and tears well in his eyes is the five simple words that have been mercilessly repeating in his head.

“I killed my best friend!” Stiles cried out has he threw his arms around his dad and sobbed into his shoulder like he hasn’t done since his mom died.

“Oh kiddo, no it wasn’t your fault,” his dad tries to reassure him but the words are hollow and meaningless to Stiles because they’re not true.

“But it is! I never should have left the house. I should have never tried to get Scott to come with me. He didn’t even want to go but I talked him into it. It’s my fault we were out there. It should have been me!” He hears his father try to sooth him but he doesn’t register any of the words as sobs wrack his body. He doesn’t know how long it takes for him to calm down but his cries do eventually subside. It’s then that he realizes what pulled him back. With his face buried in his father’s shoulder he registers the rich scent. He doesn’t know how to describe it. He picks up on the scent of coffee, and gun oil, and vague traces of the aftershave Stiles got him for his birthday. Underlying it all is a scent that is uniquely his father and it brings him so much comfort Stiles thinks he should find it unsettling; but it just gives him a small measure of peace. Stiles releases his father and collapsed back onto his pillow. He hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet and it’s already been a long day. He realizes it’s the first day of school and he should be getting ready, but he can’t bring himself to move.

“I called your school, let them know what happened and got you excused for the next couple of days.” It’s a huge relief; he doesn’t think he’s going to get out of bed for a while. Stiles wants to express his gratitude but all he can manage is a quiet, “okay.”

“Do you want me to stay home with you? I can afford to take a day off.”

“No, I think I want to be alone for right now. You need to go work on the case, figure out who that girl was. Figure out what that thing was.” His dad looks hesitant, but he relents. A short time later Stiles hears the cruiser pull away and then he’s alone.

***

Stiles falls back to sleep a short time after his father leaves; or at least he tries really hard, but the peaceful blackness doesn’t come. At first it’s just restlessness, and morbid thoughts which continually churn in his head. He thinks that perhaps he should get up and take his Adderall but he can’t bring himself to move from the warmth of his bed. When sleep does come it’s not the peaceful blackness from the night before. It’s full of nightmarish images of the beast and it’s crimson eyes, of Scott covered in blood and shouting ‘THIS IS YOUR FAULT!!!’, of Stiles being torn apart limb from limb by the creature while his cries for help go unheard from the depths of the darkened forest. When it seems like he’ll never escape the prison of his own subconscious he’s jolted awake by the sound of a phone ringing. It’s the landline. Stiles jumps up out of bed and rushes to the phone because no one uses the landline unless it’s an emergency, or a telemarketer, but just in case Stiles answers. But no one is on the other end and he still hears the sound of a phone ringing, and it’s loud. Then something even weirder happens. He hears his next door neighbor answer her phone and then proceed to gossip for an entire hour about absolutely nothing of importance. Just when it seems like it won’t go away the world gets louder, then with the sound of a car backfiring Stiles yelps and covers his ears with his hands. He doesn’t remove them for a few long minutes, but when he takes his hands away from his head the world is back to normal, except for the fact that he can hear the pipes clanging behind the wall and the dripping of the faucet in the kitchen even though he’s upstairs in his bedroom.

He can smell things too. Like the dirty clothes in the corner of his room, the food in the kitchen, his father’s whiskey, the mint mojito chewing gum in the pocket of his hoodie. He can even smell his mother even though it’s been a few years since she died, but there’s the smell all the same, the faint floral scent of her perfume and old books. Stiles finds himself tearing up for the memory of his mom now as well.

He hears his cell phone buzzing with a text message. It’s his dad telling him to make sure he changes the bandages so his wounds don’t get infected. Stiles sighs, but heads to the bathroom anyway to dig out the first aid kit. He removes his shirt and then slowly peels away the large bandage over the bite wound. Stiles’ blood runs cold and the color drains from his face. There is nothing but smooth, milky white skin; the bite is completely gone. He quickly rips the bandages over the claw marks away to reveal smooth skin there as well. _What the hell is going on_? This is what Stiles thinks to himself as he presses his back against the wall and slowly sinks to the floor. Stiles thinks he might be going crazy. He knows it all happened, but why are the wounds gone. Why is Scott dead while Stiles is perfectly fine? In that instant Stiles is filled with an uncontrollable rage as he rushes out of the bathroom and paces around the house, thinking some very violent things. It feels like something is trying to claw its way out from the back of his mind, speaking to him and itching under his skin demanding revenge; demanding that Stiles make sure whatever the hell that thing was is dead. So Stiles listens to it.

Stiles isn’t going out unprepared though. He won’t risk running into the creature again without a way to defend himself. He finds his father’s hunting knife and straps it to his belt and hides it under several layers of clothing. He also finds a can of bear mace in the garage that could come in handy as well. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing if he runs into danger. At the very least the mace would give him a chance to get away from the beast if it still lives; something in the back of his mind tells him that it is alive and to Stiles that’s unacceptable. He doesn’t care if it was just some dumb, scared animal. He hates it. _IT took something from us, it took pack. We must kill it. KILL, KILL, KILL!!!_ Stiles doesn’t know where the voice is coming from or who ‘we’ is or what it means by ‘pack’, but he agrees with its plan of action.

Stiles runs into a bit of a problem when he discovers that even though his jeep has been returned to his driveway he can’t find his keys. He supposes his dad has them. It’s probably a good idea; Stiles is too upset to be driving. With his only option being walking Stiles pulls on his hiking boots, walks out his front door, and heads towards the preserve.

By the time he reaches the edge of the forest it is well into the afternoon, and the first day of school is just coming to an end. He should be heading to lacrosse tryouts with Scott; instead he’s traipsing through the woods looking for the thing that killed him. It’s different this time around. Not just because he can see where he’s going, but the smells and sounds, heck even the sights are stronger. It’s like the scent of decay and damp earth envelop his entire being, and the sounds of the birds and the wind through the trees block out the rest of the world. But unlike at home, they do not overwhelm him. They settle something deep inside him and provide a small measure of peace. _But we are not here for peace_ , this new voice in his head tells him. _We are here for the hunt_. Stiles knows it’s right, so he refocuses on his purpose and his senses become sharper still; but they are not distractions, they are tools. Some undiscovered part of himself urges him to run, so he does. He runs until he picks up the scent of something rusty and metallic. ’ _Blood. That is the scent of blood_ ,’ the voice supplies to him. Stiles would really like to know what the hell is going on with him, because it’s scaring him a little. When he gets back to the house he has a date with Google.

Stiles finds himself back in the place where his life changed forever. The body of the girl is gone, probably recovered by the police, but the scent of her decaying flesh remains. The metallic scent is stronger too. Stiles discovers why when he sees the disturbed ground where Scott died. It’s still covered in his blood. And Stiles wants to cry again for his friend, but he finds that his sadness is overpowered by his rage. A new and instinctual part of himself urges him to take in the smells around himself. Beyond the obvious scents of blood and decaying flesh are other scents, other people, the search party. But underneath that is the scent of something feral and the voice in the back of his mind supplies the word _wrong_. ’ _It is like us but wrong…_ ’

“What the hell does that even mean?!?” Stiles asks himself out loud. There’s no response. Despite his frustration and the thought that the events of the previous night have triggered insanity, Stiles locks on to the scent and sets of in a run to follow it. He can see specks and small puddles of dried blood stuck to the shriveled leaves and cold earth as he traces the path of the beast. It’s not long before the trail comes to an end at a large puddle of dried blood and the bloody stake lies nearby. The thing is still alive. Stiles is so angry he punches a nearby tree; but he doesn’t use his fist like he means to. Instead this knew part of his subconscious urges him, almost against his will, to use his fingertips. With the slashing motion of his strike, four deep gash marks appear in the tree where the bark is ripped away. Stiles is frozen to the spot as he gapes in shock. Then he looks at his hands and sees that his fingers are tipped in long, sharp claws. Stiles stumbles backwards and trips over a branch and falls on his ass. When he looks back at his hands the claws are gone, and for a brief moment he thinks he was just imagining it but then he looks back at the tree and sees there are still claw marks in it. That’s when he feels the panic set in. He can literally hear his own rapid heartbeat as he starts taking in shallow breaths and just when he thinks he’s going into a full blown attack, a gruff voice shouting at him startles him out of his panic.

“What are you doing here? This is private property!” Stiles jumps and turns to the direction of the voice. Not thirty feet away from him, a tall, muscular, and surprisingly handsome man with raven black hair and a leather jacket is quickly approaching him. The wind shifts, and blows the man’s scent towards him. ‘ _Like us, but not pack; threat!_ ” the new voice in his mind supplies. With that revelation a deep, guttural growl is ripped from the back of his throat. Stiles is so surprised by this that he slaps a hand over his mouth and lets out a pathetic whine. Stiles scrambles further backwards when he notices the man’s eyes are flashing a bright shade of blue and he’s crouched low as if he’s getting ready to attack Stiles.

“What’s happening to me?” Stiles whispers to himself.

“You mean you really don’t know?” The man questions, a look of confusion breaking through his scowl. Stiles also notes that his posture is relaxing into something less threating. He starts to slowly approach Stiles again with his hands out in front of him in a gesture of peace.

“How did you hear that?” Stiles questions with distrust.

“The same way you can hear my heartbeat from all the way over there,” the man says, and he’s also speaking in a whisper now and even though the man is standing about twenty feet away now and still slowly approaching it sounds as though he’s standing right next to him. Stiles also notes that the guy is right, he can hear his heartbeat. Stiles is suddenly even more frightened than he was a few moments ago.

“What are you?” Stiles questions softly. The man stops his approach and just looks at Stiles for a moment like he’s stupid.

“ _We’re Werewolves_ ,” the man says placing extra emphasis on both words as if he’s stating the obvious. Stiles just looks at him for a few seconds then bursts out in hysterical laughter to the point that his ribs hurt and there are tears in his eyes. Stiles’ laughing fit subsided when he noticed the man remained completely stoic.

"You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” replied the man.

“…But werewolves aren’t real!” Stiles shouted. The man’s only answer was to let his features shift in a grotesque way that included his ears lengthening into points, his eyes flashing blue, his eyebrows receding into his face, side burns growing and claws extending from his fingertips. Stiles scrambled backwards against a tree and pressed himself up against it as the man’s features shifted back to normal. Stiles had one very important question as his fear receded and was quickly replaced by a growing anger.

“Are you the one who attacked me?” Stiles asked in a growl.

“No!” the guy said with an offended look on his face. Stiles relaxed a bit, but his anger didn’t go away. Something instinctual in Stiles, the new voice, supplied that the guy was telling the truth. Something about the rhythm of his heartbeat that Stiles didn’t understand how he had knowledge of. But that was a piece of information to examine at another time, right now Stiles was getting angrier and he couldn’t rein it in.

“So you’re telling me that I was attacked and my best friend was killed by a fucking mythical creature?!?!” Stiles shouted in his rage. The man looked confused again, and a little unsettled.

“You’re alpha killed someone?” the anger slowly drained out of Stiles and was replaced by confusion.

“What’s an alpha?”

“It’s what bit you. It’s a type of werewolf, the most powerful of our kind. They’re the only ones who can turn people.” The guy explained.

“Oh,” was the only reply Stiles could come up with. The two of them lapsed into a tense and uncomfortable silence then. The more Stiles looked at the guy the more familiar he seemed, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it yet.

“When were you bitten?” Stiles asked, both out of curiosity and out of the need to end the awkward silence.

“I was born a werewolf, a lot of the people in my family were.” Stiles didn’t miss the past tense the guy used.

“Who was your family?” Stiles asked softly.

“You’re on our land right now.” Stiles had to think for a minute. There weren’t many people who lived out near the preserve, but then he realized that there was a family he knew of who would have lived near here. And that’s when recognition hit Stiles.

“Oh my God, Derek?!? Derek Hale?!?” the guy looked surprised.

“You know who I am?”

“Yeah, you were only a couple years ahead of me in school, and I knew a few of your younger brothers and sisters before the fire.” Any emotion that showed on Derek’s face receded quickly at the mention of the fire. “What are you doing back?” Derek hesitated for a moment, obviously reluctant to share the information, before his shoulders slumped and answered.

“I’m looking for my sister.”

“Laura?” The guy looked surprised again but nodded his answer. “How long since you’ve heard from her?” again Derek hesitated but he answered regardless.

“A few days ago. It looks like she’s been at our old house, her car is there and so is some of her stuff, but I can’t find her anywhere. I keep picking up on her scent, but it’s faint.” Stiles thinks for a moment, and then his blood runs cold. He really hopes he’s wrong about his feeling.

“Derek…I think you should come with me to the police station and talk to my dad.” Derek suddenly looks very apprehensive of Stiles.

“Why?” asks Derek with obvious distrust in his voice. Stiles very much doesn’t want to be the one to have to relay this piece of information to Derek. He also desperately hopes he’s wrong.

“Last night…a girl’s body was found in the woods. As far as I know they don’t know who she is.” Derek is frozen where he stands with a pinched look on his face, but after a few moments he lets out a slow breath and nods his head.

“Come on, I’ll drive,” Derek says and turns to walk back in the direction he came from. Stiles hesitates for only a moment before following. After a relatively short walk they come upon the burnt and dilapidated structure of what Stiles assumes was once the Hale house. Looking at it Stiles feels a great sadness, knowing what happened here, knowing how many people died and how they died. Stiles can’t imagine what’s going through Derek’s head being back here. Stiles keeps these thoughts to himself, but Derek glances at him like he knows what Stiles is thinking and scowls again. Stiles can’t really find it in himself to hold it against the guy. They walk up to a sleek black Camaro and Derek climbs in; Stiles gapes for a long moment before scrambling into the passenger side and buckling his seat belt.

“Nice ride,” Stiles utters absentmindedly, as he reverently runs his hand over the dashboard.

“It’s my sister’s,” says Derek as he starts the car and pulls away from the house and heads towards town. The ride to the police station is tense and quiet. They don’t speak to each other and there isn’t even music to break the silence. When they arrive at the police station Stiles leads Derek passed the front desk and to his father’s office and knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Stiles hears his dad say. He opens the door and steps tentatively inside. His dad has his eyes trained on some files and doesn’t notice who it is that’s come in.

“Hey dad,” Derek once again has a look of surprise on his face as Stiles reveals this bit of information. Stiles’ dad snaps his head up at the sound of his voice. He looks confused.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing here?” his dad asks in worry.

“I brought someone you should probably talk too,” is all Stiles says as he steps further into the office to allow Derek to come in. His dad looks baffled for a second before recognition dawns on him.

“Derek Hale?” Derek nods.

“Hello Sheriff.” Derek says, looking really uncomfortable. His dad pauses a moment to gather his thoughts before asking the same question Stiles did.

“What brings you back to Beacon Hills?” his dad says in his official sheriff voice, though it lacks its usual sternness.

“I came looking for my sister. She’s missing. Stiles told me I should come and talk to you.” The sheriff looked over at Stiles with an expression on his face that clearly communicated ‘we’ll talk about this later.’ Then he paused, and Stiles saw the moment the same thought Stiles had passed through his mind. He looked back to Derek with an expression that could only be described as regretful.

“Derek, is it okay if I show you a picture?” asked the Sheriff. Derek nodded his assent and stepped closer to the desk.

“Stiles, wait outside,” his dad ordered. Stiles almost protested, but then though better of it. Besides, with his new abilities it’s not like he couldn’t hear what was going on. Stiles closed the door on his way out and then leaned against the wall opposite the door to his father’s office. Stiles can hear everything as if he were still in the room. Stiles hears the sound of shuffling paper, as if a folder is being opened and slid across the desk, and the sound of Derek’s heartbeat rapidly increasing in tempo. Stiles’ dad must read the answer on Derek’s face because he sighs and says, “I thought she looked familiar. I’m sorry Derek.”

Stiles’ heart skips a beat and he feels really sorry for Derek. And he feels even guiltier for the way he treated Laura Hale’s death as a game. It’s worse, Stiles thinks, now that he has a name for the face and that he knows someone who will be affected by her death. Stiles really wishes it wasn’t Laura Hale that was killed, Stiles thinks he’d be okay with it being just about anyone else, and maybe that makes him a terrible person but he really wishes Derek didn’t have to experience this loss too. He’s already lost so much.

“What happened?” Derek asks quietly. This Stiles figures is just to keep up appearances, keeping what they are a secret, but maybe he also needs to hear it out loud.

“From what we can tell based on the state of her body, she was attacked by some kind of animal. We can’t tell what it was, we sent some fur samples to a lab to get a positive ID on that. We do know it’s the same thing that attacked my son out there and killed his best friend. It got them when they were out int the preserve looking for the body.” Stiles heart skips another beat and he feels tears well in his eyes again, and he really wishes his dad didn't share that peice of information with Derek just yet, but he stamps the feeling down. He’s not going to cry right now. Not here where people can see. Stiles dad speaks again, “I promise you Derek, we’ll find whatever this thing was and put it down.” Derek doesn’t say anything and Stiles kind of feels like laughing because apparently it was a werewolf and apparently Stiles is one now too. How is his dad going to take down a freaking werewolf? Stiles knows now more than ever that he has to find it and kill it, and it’s not just for the sake of revenge anymore. He has to keep his dad and anyone else who could be endangered by the werewolf safe. “Where are you staying Derek?” his dad asks.

“Umm, nowhere yet; I just got off the plane this morning.” Stiles dad hesitates for only a moment before doing exactly what Stiles figured he’d do.

“Then you’ll stay with Stiles and I until you figure out your situation.” Derek must start to refuse because then his dad says “I insist,” in a way that leaves no argument. The door to the office opens up and his dad gestures for Stiles to come back into the office. Stiles sees the traces of tears on Derek’s face and he looks devastated, but Stiles doesn’t comment on it. He was ready to cry himself only a few moments ago as it is.

“Stiles, Derek is going to stay with us for now. I’d like you to take him home and get him settled in the guest room. Can you do that for me?”

“Of course,” is what Stiles say, because what is he going to say, no?

“Alright, I still have work to do, but I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll see you two later,” it was clearly a dismissal so Stiles did as he was told, but not before he hugged his dad and said “I love you."

The ride to his house was relatively short and it took almost no time at all to get Derek settled. He didn’t have many possessions. Soon they’re sitting in the living room in front of the TV. Stiles feels awkward, and he’s still tense because the new voice is speaking to him again. It is saying ‘ _he is intruder; he is not welcome in our territory._ ’ Stiles does his best to ignore it, but he finds it difficult when they are doing nothing but sitting here in silence.

“Are you hungry?” Stiles asks in an attempt to break the ice.

“No,” is Derek’s reply.

“Oh, me neither.” Well that didn’t work at all. The silence continues so Stiles tries a new tactic.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” Stiles says, and it’s not even a meaningless platitude, Stiles really is sorry. Derek must sense that because instead of getting angry like Stiles is pretty sure he would be, like he was when people said that to him after his mom died, Derek just gives him a small hint of a smile.

“I’m sorry about your friend.” Stiles feels like he’s been punched in the chest again, but he doesn’t get angry either, because it’s Derek and their situation is very similar.

“He was more like my brother,” is Stiles only response. They lapse into silence again for a moment before Stiles asks a question that’s been worrying him.

“Derek, am I gonna be like the…what was it you called it?"

“An Alpha,” Derek supplies.

“Does that make us betas?” Stiles asks curiously.

“Yes,” Derek says, and he seems to be pleased that Stiles has some measure of intelligence. But they’re getting off topic.

“Right, so am I gonna be like the Alpha? Am I gonna kill people?” Stiles asks, and he’s really nervous about the answer.

“You could,” Derek answers honestly. “But you can control the animalistic side of yourself, you can control your shift, even on a full moon. We’re predators, but we don’t have to be killers.” Honestly, that’s not nearly as bad as Stiles thought it was going to be.

“Full moon? Just how much of the folklore is true?”

“Some of it, but that’s not really the conversation we need to be having right now,” Derek says.

“Your right. The real question is what are you going to do now?” Stiles asks.

“I’m going to kill the alpha, and in exchange for helping you learn to control your wolf, you’re going to help me.” Stiles sputters at that.

“Dude! Did you really think I was going to let you do it without me?! I have just as much of a reason for wanting the Alpha dead as you do.”

“I didn’t really think you’d need that much convincing, but I figured a little leverage couldn’t hurt.” Stiles wants to be mad at Derek for that but honestly Stiles probably would have done the same.

“So when is the next full moon? What do I need to do?”

“The next full moon is on Friday. And at the moment you don’t need to do anything. The transition won’t be complete until then anyway. Right now, you have some primal urges, and you can bring your claws out, but you won’t completely shift until moonrise, that's when you'll experience the bloodlust.”

“And until then?” Stiles asks, because he feels like this is vital information.

“Until then we start looking for the Alpha. I teach you what you need to know to control yourself.”

“Right, so when do we start?” Stiles asks hesitantly. He actually doesn’t know if he feels up to leaving the house again tonight.

“Tomorrow,” says Derek. “For now I’d like to rest.” Stiles doesn’t protest as Derek gets up off the couch and goes to the guest bedroom, closing the door behind him. Stiles feels like resting too, so he lays down on the couch and closes his eyes. He’s so exhausted from the day’s events that he thinks he might actually be able to sleep again. So he closes his eyes and lets his thoughts wonder. But he mainly focuses on Derek and their new alliance. Because of their new arrangement, because of their common goal, Stiles feels a shift in his thoughts as the new wolf inside of him settles. Derek is no longer an intruder; an enemy. ‘ _He is pack_ ,’ his wolf supplies as Stiles drifts into the peaceful blackness of a dreamless slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I hope it wasn't too terrible. Comments and criticism are welcome and if you liked it kudos are appreciated. I'll try to have the next chapter up asap.


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